My last two ducats lay flat in palm,And instead of buying food to feed the hunger in my stomachThey provided a train ride to feed the rumble in my heart.

What can I say, my gentle Queen?You feed me more.

This is a poem I felt almost compelled to write. When does love for a person, career, hobby or item become so strong that an individual will sacrifice the very things they need to live just to utilize, use or see what they have so much passion about? When does it become so strong that a person will starve, physically because they feel like they’re fed more emotionally? I think it’s a deep as theory, question or debate. I’ve gone through this before. Have you?